


Mistaken Identity

by RavennaNightcrown



Category: Evillious Chronicles
Genre: F/M, a modern-ish AU crossover of Pride and Grath, born of the ship generator thingy, crack ship, idk how it works honestly, may or may not be in the 4th period, possibly a coffee shop AU with vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-13 17:56:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20178379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavennaNightcrown/pseuds/RavennaNightcrown
Summary: Misunderstandings breed possibilities. Crossovers and mistaken identities? Even more so.// basically a cursed Lilith/Kyle fic with vampires





	Mistaken Identity

Postman was grateful for the rain. This way, she could avoid the questioning looks of onlookers at her choice of clothing, an oversized hat and a bulky coat with a high collar that covered all but her eyes. Not to mention the thick ugly scarf underneath that Nemesis had given her as a gift—a Nativity gift, for no one was able to ascertain her birth date.

Speaking of gifts, she was hiding some within the pockets inside her coat: a navy blue necktie, a mug, ans a wooden doll, among others. And from her, a gavel-shaped paperweight she had procured from a shady businessman who was occasionally an informant. They were for her employer—the boss of PN, and for a time her childhood acquaintance—Judge Gallerian Marlon.

Her pace sped up when she saw the familiar sign of the cafe where she and her boss frequently met at for deliveries.  _ Merry-Go-Round Cafe. _ She held her umbrella tighter as she wove through the crowd, faking a cough from time to time to excuse her appearance.

“Good morning,” she greeted. The blond barista nodded in acknowledgement. Postman had developed some sort of distant kinship with the boy, to the extent that he knew how she liked her tea and brioche, as unnecessary they were to her now current state of vampirism. She also liked how he hadn’t question her lack of interest in the establishment’s best selling coffee, praised for being able to keep even the most hardworking scientists awake for days. Probably why Gallerian, the workaholic that he was, favored this place.

She saw her employer sipping coffee in a corner, wearing clothes much more casual than what she remembered his definition of casual was. Maybe his daughter was able to persuade him to loosen up. Postman promptly sat in front of him and took off her hat, swiftly placing all the gifts on the table. “Happy birthday, boss.”

Gallerian only gawked at her.

She frowned, an expression she had learned from Shiro. “It’s from all of PN. You don’t like it?”

“R-Riliane?! What are you doing here in Levianta?”

_ Who?  _

“Gods. How are you still alive?” the man blurted out, a horrified look on his pale face.

Postman bit back a growl. First, he calls her a random name, and next he insults her. Just because she was something sort of undead didn’t give him the right to question her state of being alive! She smacked her boss’s face with her heavy hat.

He cowered against his seat. “Please stop haunting me anymore.”

“Have you gone mad, Gallerian?”

“What?” 

Oh dear. The man kept on staring at her with a stupidly idiotic face. His unnaturally youthful look—Judge Babyface, the others would tease—similar to hers almost made her forget that he was a human, unlike her who donned this body from being unable to age further. She stole the cup of coffee he was protecting with his hands. “Bruno should stop enabling you. Too much coffee has melted your brain.”

“Um. I think there has been some misunderstanding.”

She stared at him blankly.

“I am not this Gallerian person you think I am.”

“...”

“...”

...could this be a case of the rule of Three Ma had talked about? There was only one way to find out. “Michelle is ugly.”

“Who?”

Oh gods. This man could not, absolutely, definitely could not be Gallerian. If he was, she would have been fired before she could even finish that sentence. Postman gathered PN’s gifts as quickly as she had placed them on the table. She mentally prayed that no one would see her mishap, PN would not let her live this down.

Gallerian’s doppelganger had managed to grab her hand before she could reach the exit. “Wait…!”

“Let. Me. Go,” she spat, soft enough to not make a scene but loud enough for him to hear. The case of mistaken identity was already too much in itself, she couldn’t afford to associate with a human outside of PN’s business. After all, the torrential rain is starting to soften into a light drizzle, the clouds slowly parting to make way for the sun. Postman prepared to hit the man with her umbrella, until she met the eyes of the barista who was approaching their little commotion.

“Allen, this is not what you think this is,” the man defended.

“I haven’t even said anything,” the barista, Allen said. He then motioned for her to go, his hand firmly grabbing the other guy’s shoulder to prevent him from moving.

Postman nodded in acknowledgement, mind already planning a quick getaway.

“Wait! Girl who looks like my ex-fiancee!”

The what?! She sharply turned her head towards him, about to spew some insults she had learned from Lich.

The man winced when Allen elbowed him at the remark, a shadow forming over the barista’s face. “Don’t.”

“Well, man who looks like my boss, leave me be. Haven’t we already agreed that this was a misunderstanding?” And then she gasped, a flush forming on her pallid cheeks. She hadn’t meant to say the first part out loud.

“Coffee.”

“Excuse me?”

“Kyle, what the hell are you doing?”

“You owe me coffee.” The audacity! “For slapping me!”

“I didn’t! If anything, it is  _ you _ who owes me coffee for wasting my time.”

“Tomorrow morning, I will be in the same spot.”

“W-w-what?”

Allen looked at the other man with a disapproving look. “Did you just…?”

“It’s not like that!” he insisted, voice breaking into a squeak. “I’m just interested in the story behind this misunderstanding.”

No, no, no, no. She couldn’t compromise PN like this. “I don’t even drink coffee!”

“I’m sure Yukina would be interested in this, too. She was conceptualizing a doppelganger story, I believe.”

The blond only sighed.

They were ignoring her! 

“Hey!”

He then smiled at her, charmingly at that. “I’m sorry, I haven’t introduced myself. I am Ky—Karchess.”

Allen snorted. “And I am Kokutan-douji.”

So they are going to play with fake names then? Fine with her. A name popped up from a distant memory, something from before her becoming PN’s Postman. “Lilith.”

**Author's Note:**

> I was supposed to work on Error but I got sidetracked with this. Hope you got entertained (I tried to be funny)


End file.
